Konspekt Interview

Finding ourselves in history

A conversation about history and collective consciousness

Zbigniew Bauer, Henryk Czubała and Bogusław Gryszkiewicz talk with Professor Jan Tomasz Gross

I have the impression that there will now be a thorough revision in occupation period historiography. Furthermore, this is necessary (regardless of the matter of my book) in connection with the issue of the Soviet occupation of Poland's Eastern regions as well-even 10 years ago, documents concerning this matter were still inaccessible. Reflection on the experience of Polish Jews, which has escaped the notice of Polish historians, is necessary in order to integrate knowledge regarding the experience of Polish society under occupation by Hitler and the Soviets. Here it is not just a matter of the experience of Polish Jewry. A new history of the World War II period needs to be written.
          -Jan Tomasz Gross, professor at New York University

Zbigniew Bauer:
-I would like to entitle this conversation 'coming out of the barn'. After what happened regarding the matter of Jedwabne and Polish responsibility for the murder of Polish citizens of Jewish origin in the region of Łomża-and perhaps also in various other places yet unknown to us-I would like us to try to think about what will happen next. What effects could the discussion which your book has engendered have?

Henryk Czubala and Zbigniew Bauer

Jan Tomasz Gross:
I think your predictions could be much more accurate than mine, since I have not taken part in the intellectual and political life of Poland on an everyday basis for many years. Obviously, I follow these matters and visit here often. However, I do not have any particularly apt intuitions about the subject-I simply don't know how all of this could develop. In and of itself, the discussion-its scope and multitude of voices-is a very positive surprise to me. I have the impression that there will now be a thorough revision in occupation period historiography. Furthermore, this is necessary (regardless of the matter of my book) in connection with the issue of the Soviet occupation of Poland's Eastern regions as well-even 10 years ago, documents concerning this matter were still inaccessible. Reflection on the experience of Polish Jews, which has escaped the notice of Polish historians, is necessary in order to integrate knowledge regarding the experience of Polish society under occupation by Hitler and the Soviets. Here it is not just a matter of the experience of Polish Jewry. A new history of the World War II period needs to be written.

Prof. Jan Tomasz Gross

Henryk Czubala:
-Passionate disputes encourage us to reflect. At least since the beginning of the 19th century, questions have been appearing as to what history is, what use it is to humanity, and what it does with humanity. These are accompanied by questions regarding truth and the meaning of historical activity. We could ask what functions this knowledge and historical awareness occupy today. It seems to me that arguments regarding historic events provide an opportunity for such reflection-obviously, on the condition that we are in a position to disengage ourselves from the passions inherent in these arguments...

Boguslaw Gryszkiewicz:
-Especially since the matter of Jedwabne is conducive to a rather skeptical attitude towards historiography. You were saying, Professor, that this matter has escaped the notice of historians. I read that as a sort of euphemism intended to convey that historians simply have not wanted to take up the subject-for reasons which we can figure out for ourselves... History, from our contemporary viewpoint, has ceased to be as credible as it supposedly was in the past. I would feel bad to find myself in the shoes of a historian involved with World War II times; I would probably have a feeling of 'mission not accomplished'.

Jan Tomasz Gross i Boguslaw Gryszkiewicz

J.T.G.: I agree...

H.Cz.: These are no doubt the public and ethical obligations of a historian...

J.T.G.: It seems to me the matter is more complex. The problem with Jedwabne is not that the matter was consciously passed over. Perhaps someone will say, 'I have something in a drawer which I had been working on for ages, but for some reason or other consciously set it aside. This matter is more interesting-if we are talking about how history is noted down and registered and thereafter constructed. I have the impression that this was a matter which people did and didn't know about-without any evil intent to hide anything which, if revealed, would be 'shameful' information. I think that even without this type of intention, an account of these events would not have penetrated into historians' awareness. This is a very interesting question-what kinds of facts are registered? From this empirical experience, what ends up in the books? A lot of people have spoken about this matter in very different contexts and circles. The people who lived there knew about it. I think that the community of Jedwabne-and, I suppose, Radziłów and Wizna as well-was aware of it throughout the entire post-war period and talked about it openly. In the consciousness of the local community, the post-war experiences of the people living there were constantly filtered through the experience of 1941. In 1949, there was a trial-one as open as trials could be back then. So it is no secret. It is not a matter just of the consciousness of Poles, but also of the consciousness of Jewish Holocaust historians. In 1980, a book commemorating Jedwabne's Jews was published, half in Hebrew, half in English. It was published in a printing run of a few hundred copies, which are, however, finding their way to the most important libraries. The Yad Vashem Institute has had several copies of this book for twenty-some-odd years. In the "Gazeta Wyborcza", we read Barbara Boni's conversation with Israel Gutman of Yad Vashem, who says, 'Somehow I did and didn't know about it; now it is a revelation to me.' What in the material of these events has caused knowledge of them to be 'drowned'? Not that-as far as we know-anyone consciously tried to hide it, keep it under wraps...

B.G.: Except the censors...

Zbigniew Bauer

Z.B.: I would like to come back to this. What if, in 1981-given the heroic picture of the Polish people, the sense of their mission and greatness in Europe-permission were suddenly granted to publish an article or a book such as yours? In an interview for the "Gazeta Wyborcza", Professor Leon Kieres says that such a book should have been published 20-30 years ago. Really-let's say, 30 years ago-could this book have been published in the form in which it was, given the ease with which an anti-Semitic witch hunt was instigated in Poland in 1968? Someone will compare the secret of Jedwabne to the secret of Katyń. It's not the same thing. The secret of Katyń, which was known in the majority of Polish homes and families, was consciously suppressed by the authorities because they didn't want to tell the truth about the criminal nature of their system. Why is that authorities which were capable of instigating an anti-Semitic witch hunt in 1968 were at the same time interested in not having things like the Jedwabne affair publicized? They kept this pistol cocked the whole time-they could mobilize hatred of Jews at any moment and play a certain political game. What would have happened if such a book were published at that time-in 1970 or 1981?

J.T.G.: But this is not a book which mobilizes anti-Semitism.

Z.B.: No, but it starts discussion-a discussion which is possible only now.

J.T.G.: But why, in your opinion?

Z.B.: I don't know-I was just wondering the same thing myself. Now, it is possible. However, I do not think it would have been possible in 1981 for other reasons. We had 'our' Pope, 'our' Solidarity. We were so pure, so beautiful...

B.G.: Maybe society no longer has such a great need for a myth of the people as sacrificial victim...

J.T.G.: Right.

B.G.: ...especially among the young and educated. This, I think, is a fundamental factor which facilitates the discussion.

Z.B.: Isn't that just it-that we, after 1989, after that great wave of euphoria, are beginning to experience certain humiliations? We aren't coping with certain things, with this or that not working out for us… and we are more prepared to accept the bitter truth about our own history.

J.T.G.: On the one hand, I am absolutely fascinated-and this is for me a wonderful experience-with this part of the range of voices which approaches this discovery, the necessity of publicizing it, in an open manner, from the position of the president of the Republic [of Poland] on the matter, to the huge quantity of wonderful, excellent news stories on the subject, which are absolutely, rigorously honest and expand our knowledge. Just as Andrzej Kaczyński did in "Rzeczypospolita", Anna Bikont in the "Gazeta Wyborcza", wonderful texts were written in the "Gazeta Pomorska" by Adam Wilma. The very ethically deep voices of several commentaries have also appeared. This all shows that society has found itself at a point of no return. There are also other voices. I know from many people that this other spectrum of voices is something completely horrifying to them. The conviction that it is OK at the present moment to speak up in an openly anti-Semitic manner in order to realize a certain world-view option seems to me unbelievably drastic and scandalous while, after all, one is standing by a pile of people murdered in a horrible manner-and here we move beyond a certain limit of decency. I remember this feeling from conversations with Polish Jews remaining here to this day, who represent a small group of completely assimilated people discovering the Jewish portion of their identity with interest and difficulty. And here these people are faced with a discussion which is on the one hand wonderful, bringing hope for a breakdown of stereotypes; and on the other hand, arouses in them such terrible anxiety that they are beginning to wonder if they shouldn't just emigrate. What do you think, gentlemen-what is happening on this other spectrum?

H.Cz.: The matter is difficult, because we are mixing planes of discussion. One plane is the plane of discovery, of history, associated with positivist faith that some particularly valuable, objective, transparent narrative is possible. It will give us an idea of the facts, and all of our ethical qualms will be put to rest, because we believe that this history and knowledge will 'settle' something for us. A second matter are the socio-psychological after-effects, which are very much alive. This problem is not only sociological and political, but has a traumatic and psychiatric aspect. And this goes for all parties to the discussion. These psychological conditions give a particular media and emotional sense to historic research. In this context, what you do, sir, has much media significance-not to mention the various games which must of necessity be played out around it. Though I notice with a certain satisfaction that these political games are beginning to recede into the background. There is yet a third important factor which we should perhaps include in our discussion: the methodology of historic research is changing. In the global culture in which we live and to which we have 'hooked ourselves up', there is a pronounced tendency toward tolerance of that which is different. We also have the example of American society, which has had to deal with the memory of various forms of persecution-and there have been more of those than one can imagine, for there are certain things which we don't and can't experience. That society provides an example of a somewhat naive pop therapy with the aid of film and literature. The global culture also perhaps makes it possible to couch the problem we are talking about today in philosophical terms. Besides this, there is that historic methodology which allows one to look at history, even the most contemporary events, from an amoral 'long-term process' perspective. It is perhaps even immoral sometimes, in that it takes a relativistic approach, which is something we would like to condemn.
I don't know which of these methodologies is closer to your heart-when I follow the construction of your book, I see traces of different inspirations everywhere. History has created a certain distance to itself, as a science, which allows it to look at reality differently. It is one thing when we want to force some absolute truth on someone, and another when we say that this truth is psychologically, legally, etc. absolute. But there is still that long-term process, and then we say that perhaps European culture is a history of persecutions and crimes

B.G.: Let me mention something which is probably obvious to all of us here. The whole time, we have been talking about the reactions of a very narrow circle. However, if we take into account, Professor, the results of surveys studying attitudes towards the Jedwabne affair and your book, it turns out that a decided majority of the people studied do not believe in this Polish guilt. And we, who despite everything travel in rather closed circles, cannot say much about these people. I think we should not lose sight of the fact that there are people around us who have a fundamentally different view of the matter. It would be a real success if we managed to convince these people-perhaps not even concerning the truth about Jedwabne, but concerning the necessity of dialogue on this difficult subject.

J.T.G.: Frankly, these divisions among disciplines are rather mysterious to me... Since you have taken up methodological issues, sir, I must say that at any rate, in research practice, these boundaries between disciplines are not taken seriously. In thinking about the past, people are both immersed in empirical experience-they take a kind of, shall I say, positivist approach to the facts-and, at the same time, they set them in a context of rules derived from either psychology or the social sciences rather than just from history, and try to give them a wise interpretation. But then again, this is no earth-shaking revelation.

Henryk Czubala, Zbigniew Bauer, Boguslaw Gryszkiewicz, Jan Tomasz Gross

H.Cz.: Oh, I don't know about that-this is not yet obvious in all the academic circles.

Z.B.: I think the example of the discussion about Jedwabne shows that attempts are being made to set clear boundaries between the methodology of history on the one hand, and sociology, journalism, politics on the other. And suddenly those who are negatively disposed toward the concept of being open to the truth start talking like this: no, there were 160, 1000 people, and how do we know anyway-the sources are uncertain. So maybe we'll do an exhumation, even a sloppy one-and the matter is taken care of. We use the methods of traditional nineteenth-century history, forgetting that this contemporary history requires journalistic involvement; that it cannot remain indifferent to politics; that more and more often, it is used by politics... This is clearly visible in the Balkans.
It is this thread of the discussion which aims to invalidate the step which we have taken towards the truth about ourselves. To return to the basic questions of traditional, classical historiography-where does the source come from? If there's no documentation, then there's no fact. If it hasn't been counted, it doesn't exist.

J.T.G.: I have observed two types of reactions to these observations. On the one hand, I realize that at the very beginning, it was a defensive reaction on the part of persons and circles who, first of all, as it were, didn't want to acknowledge this. Secondly, there were historians who wrote absolutely nothing about the subject (never mind the reasons for that), and these felt a bit uncomfortable. After all, it was unbecoming to keep quiet about such drastic events, situated in the center of the occupation experience of Polish society in these territories. On their part, it was some kind of defensive reaction. They repeated, 'After all, this gentleman is not a historian, so all is not as it should be...' In this sense, their response wasn't all that great. But obviously, there is no doubt that the scrupulousness they postulate, as far as sources and facts are concerned, is something which should be respected. Frankly, I do not fault myself for anything. I was always aware that this book, after a year of very scrupulous and critical analysis of every bit of its content, had stood the test of time very well. There are a few idiotic errors in it-the wrong first name attributed to some person giving an account of something, a quote attributed not to Mr. X but to Mr. Y. This all is without significance from the point of view of the historical knowledge which emanates from the book, as well as of the book's construction itself. However, as far as the exhumations are concerned, I also don't think they were conducted properly. But the message of the book is not changed by the numbers-300 or 1600 persons murdered-though obviously, it would be good to know how many people actually died at the time. Since this is an exceptionally difficult story, such certain knowledge would make it easier to come to terms with, as well as facilitate discussions conducted as conversations oriented toward content rather than toward details (by reason of true or supposed ill will). During the exhumations, not everything was dug up. We need to remember that this was not a professionally-conducted exhumation. An international observer having enormous knowledge of this subject, with whom I spoke in Jedwabne and after Jedwabne (I wrote about his accounts in the Gazeta Wyborcza), stated that on the basis of the work conducted there, it is absolutely impossible to determine the total number of persons buried. Professor Kieres attempts to present this in some sensible manner, saying that the exact number of victims is of no great significance, because what we have found out up until now is entirely sufficient for us to treat this crime as one of the most horrible magnitude. After all, remains of children and old people were found, and in general, it is known that what was described in Wasersztajn's account did in fact happen.

H.Cz.: It just seems that proper criminological and historical work should nonetheless be done...

J.T.G.: In this regard, the war era is generally exceptionally difficult. Often, falsehoods were written and the entire official documentation of these matters appears strongly suspect. Many sources have been destroyed. The history of the occupation, as far as any kind of purely positivist empiricism is concerned, is very difficult.

H.Cz.: Zbigniew Bauer drew attention to another aspect of the historian's work in which it is impossible to disengage oneself from emotions, ideology and politics, for perhaps such an 'objectivist' historical account would have no meaning to us. At a certain phase, your work is finished, for you can no longer expect anything more from anyone-unless yet another source is found, yet another witness. There was a hope that the exhumation work would bring some new discoveries; however, it changes little in the import of the facts. The order of the day is to be thorough, taking into account the individual histories of the people tangled in these events. However, there remain debatable questions, above all regarding collective responsibility-which are essential from an ethical and philosophical point of view-as well as how to 'measure' that responsibility. Probably there is some difference-in the context of collective responsibility, of course-between systemic, ideologically-based persecutions organized by nationalist ideologies, and persecutions whose source were more or less animal reflexes, crowd instincts...
The latter are the excesses of more-or-less organized collective groups which were not influenced by systemic necessities. The problem of collective responsibility-based on solidarity-is very painful, because every Pole who takes part in this discussion wonders about his/her place in history. To boil this down to some kind of trivial dimensions: the person must answer the question of whether to apologize to everyone-even though s/he is guilty of nothing-and of what to do about this. The Germans have experienced these ethical aporias with regard to their own history and somehow survived; the Americans are also experiencing them in the face of their domestic problems; we are experiencing this for the first time, losing the feeling of naive innocence.

Z.B.: Please notice that nations which are not prospering do not discuss collective responsibility. The Russians have not repented of the genocide which they allowed themselves to commit in Afghanistan or Chechnya. No one besides some of the Russian intellectuals has said a thing about it. On the other hand, those nations which are stabilizing their position are beginning to think about more serious matters-the problems of their own responsibility, their own place in history, their own consciousness, their own myth and image. To return to my first question, is this the moment when we, as people living here, are really ready to undertake authentic discussion? The ceremonies in Jedwabne will come to an end, and what will remain?...

J.T.G.: I have a few intuitions on that subject. First of all, the expression 'collective responsibility' is probably not a good one, for it refers to something completely different. I would prefer that we phrase it differently, for example as a question: 'Is this my business?' I am a Pole who was born after all that and has nothing to do with it; I don't live in the area, these are not my relatives. Is this a matter which concerns me in some way? Do I, in connection with this, feel a need to say anything; does my soul suffer on account of what happened there? And another thing I would like to say here-and this is also a linguistic question-what does it mean that we say 'I'm sorry'? Let's notice that never in this polemic, since the matter became public, were the words 'Please apologize to us' heard from Jewish circles, or Jewish organizations. The matter of apologies is exclusively a matter of dialogue within Polish society. 'I'm sorry' is an expression by means of which I, a contemporary Pole, express sorrow for what happened. We are talking, we are conversing with each other. This is my voice. But really, it is an internal, Polish conversation, a conversation with ourselves-we must do something about this. And in a longer-term perspective, an apology becomes the first step-a symbol of something which we are attempting to render in an institutional manner, intended to express that sorrow. This apology is and will remain a gesture. It can be nothing more.

This is the beginning of a complicated discussion of our own identity. About what belongs to us, what we have inherited, what we should account for. And in this sense, it is a long-range project whose essence is a return to history: I'll have another look at it and tell myself that from those civilizational and cultural sources which we have inherited, from the entire repertoire of behaviors which have taken place among people who are our compatriots, because they were raised in the same circle of cultural transmission, we have chosen something which cannot be reconciled with the present mythical representation of images concerning ourselves. Thus, the great difficulty in taking up this matter. For the problem is not only that a terrible crime was committed, but also-as you gentlemen already said earlier-that there is encoded in our culture a conviction of being exclusively a victim-but the matter is much more complicated. That it is possible to be a victim and a persecutor simultaneously; that a certain type of brotherhood of hatred is formed among the persecuted. This, too, is an extraordinarily important cultural leitmotif. 'For our freedom and yours'-this phenomenal sentence conveys that nobility of sacrifice which seems to be one of the fundamental reference points of the Polish Romantic tradition. And now, suddenly, something has collapsed in an extraordinary manner.

B.G.: We probably realize that often, the expression 'I'm sorry' is a politician's commonplace spectacular gesture, or a 'magic word'. For me, 'I'm sorry' is rather a closing formula than an opening one. When I hear these words from the mouths of certain public personages, I have the impression that they would like to end the discussion of this painful topic as quickly as possible. I wonder if any formula at all is necessary to express readiness to converse with ourselves and converse with others. This 'I'm sorry' has become a bit suspect for me, especially if someone is apologizing amid floodlights, before television cameras...

Z.B.: Doesn't it seem to you, gentlemen, that this 'I'm sorry' could-perhaps a little awkwardly, a little ineptly, but nonetheless-open up some possibility of conversation about certain things? Remember Willi Brandt's famous 'Kniefall' in 1970? After all, at that point, the Germans still hadn't settled their moral accounts with Poland. They still had before them a real time of reckoning with us, with all of Europe. But nevertheless, the fact that Brandt got down on his knees in Warsaw had colossal significance for Polish-German dialogue. And what about the ceremonies on St. Anne's Hill?

J.T.G.: I, too, think that it is an opening. On the one hand, I agree with you, sir, that the expression 'I'm sorry' in and of itself suggests that 'the matter is settled'; but for me, it is also a signal which conveys that we are at all ready to relate this matter to ourselves, because it concerns us. This is an obvious thing to me. From the outset, President Kwaśniewski spoke in an open manner, without ambiguity-in contrast to, for example, some representatives of the Episcopate. For many Catholics, their attitude is unacceptable. The position of Primate Józef Glemp and other persons is shocking. Given the calling of the Church in this world, it is difficult to reconcile oneself to the fact of someone speaking with various reservations by a pile of murdered persons. I saw people who cried at the meetings, saying, 'As a Catholic, I suffer when I see this priest in Jedwabne. What a monstrous character! The Polish Church will still have to reckon with this matter and also with its reaction to it.'

H.Cz.: In the context of your research, sir, the prospect of a new synthesis of history in the long term appears. Perhaps you are opening up an interesting sociological and anthropological perspective, but such a perspective does not fully satisfy the historian or the moralist, and could perhaps even irritate them. Because you, perhaps, aim to generalize facts and historic events which cautious historians probably would not generalize. They would not look for any stereotypes or patterns, but rather describe facts and events with a certain dose of the emotional gestures which accompany a naive historical narrative. Perhaps the time has come for the synthesis and revision to which your research prompts us. Perhaps we are comfortable enough to perform such a synthesis.

J.T.G.: I think that particularly the young people now entering the creative and research phase will no longer have any resistance to taking advantage of a large variety of inspirations all at once. On the one hand, we are looking for the answer to the question of what happened; on the other, however, we would like to know what significance telling about these events could have for a community which wants to find itself in history.

H.Cz.: Perhaps for you, sir, as the author of this book, more important is what significance it has for us and what people do with your account while transmitting the text to each other. The synthetic perspective recorded in your book is very interesting.

J.T.G.: Furthermore, in writing my book, I had this synthetic perspective from the very beginning. Because I happened on this account many years ago and didn't understand it, so that I myself became the object of my own research, in posing myself the question, 'Why wasn't this kind of event registered?' Right before the publication of Neighbors and the attempt to understand what happened, I wrote a short text for the Commemorative Book edited by Tomasz Strzembosz. This text was constructed around Wasersztajn's account, which I gave there in extenso. Not fully understanding this account, I reinforced myself in the conviction that this was a very important document which should be treated with enormous pietism. Moreover, I devoted a fragment of my book to this. Knowing that what I said in the article is inadequate, that my knowledge of the subject is now greater, I decided to published this article, though I could have withdrawn it. It seems to me that the history of the non-registration of what happened in Jedwabne, despite the existence of so many different premonitions and signals, is in itself part of the history of Jedwabne.

H.Cz.: Does this represent your helplessness as a researcher, when you ascertain these facts?

J.T.G.: It is in a certain sense a history of my helplessness, though I am speaking perversely here-obviously, I could have refrained from admitting to it. I think, however, that it is very interesting that it was in just such a state of cognitive uncertainty that all of us found ourselves.

H.Cz.: Is it possible to completely avoid this uncertainty? Is history the history of that which is certain, or an account of the lack thereof?

J.T.G.: The issue of Jedwabne is unusual, because it is a little as if, during our conversation, we didn't notice the remains of an infant lying on the table, and here we have been carrying on with our discussion for 50 years, without seeing this. After all, this is an essential event in the history of the occupation! We will see this in the years to come. In light of this event, that history will be different.

Z.B.: And then there are matters associated with our relationship with the Ukrainians, to the post-war Germans-won't we become tired of self-flagellation at a certain point?

B.G.: I'm sorry, but I hadn't noticed that this self-flagellation was universal. By the way, I am curious-was it a desire to plow up the collective consciousness which motivated you to work on Neighbors?

J.T.G.: No doubt. I realize that in some sense I duplicated the historiography of the occupation in a manner which was accepted canon, in which Jewish issues were separated out, leaving them to the specialists. In this way, I wrote two books about the experiences of society under the German occupation and under the Soviet occupation.

B.G.: I remember that once upon a time, the "Bulletin of the Jewish Historical Institute" had a very limited scope of this kind.

J.T.G.: Yes, there does exist a historiography and history of Polish Jewry; but especially in relation to the occupation period, it is separate and designated for specialists. This is a complete misunderstanding. Can the history of the disappearance of a huge portion of Poland's population from the face of the earth be anything other than a central problem of our history? The fates and experiences of Poles, both Jews and Gentiles, are interwoven and completely impossible to forget. The process of the extermination of the Jews, to use that awful word, was a process which was not carried out only in gas chambers, far from anyone's view. It took place right in the middle of cities and towns. It is an event whose effects can be felt to this day. Yes, people were taken to Treblinka, to Bełżec... but you need to remember what the situation was. After all, the ghettoes were often open; not all of them were surrounded by walls. I don't know if you gentlemen have laid your hands on the memoirs of Zygmunt Krukowski, a doctor from Szczebrzeszyn, near Zamość. He describes events in this normal little town, just like others. The entire local population sees what is going on. It sees, it knows, it registers, and this goes on for weeks. More Jews were murdered in Szczebrzeszyn during the action of loading them onto trains headed for Bełżec than were finally transported to the camps. If our neighbors were to be murdered in a horrible manner in the middle of Poland's cities, how could this not leave an unimaginably deep imprint and memory in everyone who in some way witnessed it? It would be as if we were to tell ourselves, 'I'm walking down the street, and next to me they are murdering some baby, some old person; I'll take a look, go home, sit down and read Balzac...'

Z.B.: A certain defensive reflex on the part of this population, a denial mechanism appears instantly: what could we do in such a small pre-war town, since the Jewish population was a majority there? How could we have helped them?

J.T.G.: That is another issue. I am asking not about helping vs. not helping, but about whether the fate and extermination of the Jews is a separate issue, excluded from the history of Poland. My answer is 'No', for a thousand different reasons. First of all, from the viewpoint of historic demography; secondly, from the viewpoint of psychology.

H.Cz.: That issue cannot be resolved by analysis of the facts.

J.T.G.: And the case of Jedwabne is unique; there is no point getting into methodology. We have a situation where the Polish half of the town's inhabitants murders its Jewish population. The intermingling of their fates is so evident and dramatic that we do not even have to think about what and how. I, of course, had been aware of this for a long time, and for this reason, Jedwabne landed on my table. But, after all, I have published various things: Decade of Horror was a dramatic text, but in the end, it passed by the wayside...

B.G.: There is yet another important question here, one associated closely with your intention to affect the collective consciousness-which is, in my view, synonymous with the destruction of a certain myth. Weren't you haunted by the fear that, in infringing on one myth, you would reinforce another? In speaking of this other myth, I have in mind the stereotype functioning outside Poland-and this, not only in Jewish circles-of the Polish anti-Semite.

J.T.G.: For one thing, I never thought about this for even a second. A person stands before an event which does not exist in history, but which is ethically monstrous. At that point, the question of whether or not I am to tell this truth does not even exist. It is obvious to me that when you happen upon something like this, you need to talk about it immediately. For another thing, I would like to say something which is not my speculation, but rather empirical knowledge. The publication of this book and the discussion which is going on around this matter is operating in precisely the opposite manner, the stereotype notwithstanding. The fact that there is a broad-scale, stormy dispute going on in Poland, in which various voices are appearing-anti-Semitic ones, too, negating this event-was registered on the outside immediately, and not only in the press. In The New York Times, there is a page on which the editors present their opinions. A commentary on the discussion about Jedwabne was also published there. At the end of April, I took part in a discussion at the Holocaust Museum, whose participants included, among others, Paweł Machcewicz, Andrzej Paczkowski, and discussion opener Paul Shapiro-the head of the research department at the Museum. The latter said that such a discussion about the Holocaust as is now taking place in Poland is unthinkable anywhere else. Nowhere else in Europe has it been conducted with such openness and dramatic quality, and this is extraordinary and wonderful. So, it is exactly the opposite. I knew this from the beginning and wrote about it in, among other places, the Tygodnik Powszechny, before the English translation of my book came out. That neighbors murder neighbors is no great revelation or new information to anyone in today's world. We watched this in television reports on the wars in the Balkans, we read about what was going on Rwanda. And we all know about what the Jews experienced during the occupation. A wealth of literature exists on the subject. In Poland, this matter is received as unbelievably shocking, but to speak cynically now, in Jewish circles it would be no great revelation. They have known very well about these matters for a long time. In this context, the important thing is how a society in whose past something like this took place will respond to it today. And, well, Poland has responded superbly. The balance of public opinion, shall I say, is unambiguously positive.

H.Cz.: Thank you, Professor, for talking with us.

Interviewed by Zbigniew Bauer, Henryk Czubala, Boguslaw Gryszkiewicz
Translated by Cara Thornton   

Copyright © Jan Tomasz Gross and "Konspekt" Krakow September 2001
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